


Driven to Distraction

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9385493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: Lee finds the pilots' bunkroom makes a very bad place to do paperwork.





	

Not for the first time in his three long weeks as Galactica’s CAG, Lee Adama wished he had an office.

Instead he settled at the dented metal table in the officers’ quarters, carefully laying out neat piles of flight schedules, requisition requests, and refueling plans. He took a quick look around, surveying his domain. It was quiet, at least, in the bunkroom right now. Only three racks had curtains closed, indicating pilots catching some shuteye.

Or so he thought.

As Lee picked up a pen with a barely stifled sigh, he heard a hard exhale that slid into a soft trilling noise to his left. His eyes flicked over to Kara’s bunk, the curtain drawn fully across its length. Then he heard the distinctive sound of clothes rustling. He grimaced, dropping his eyes back to his paperwork.

He knew Kara was in there – he drew up the flight schedules after all – but he couldn’t help wonder if she had company. It was an unwritten rule that you didn’t bring casual fraks back to the bunkroom.

But the lords knew, Kara Thrace never met a rule she didn’t want to break.

Another noise issued from behind the curtain, a little louder this time, a half-gasp, half-moan that had Lee’s own breath catching.  He swallowed hard, eyes focused on, though not at all seeing, the duty rosters in front of him as he strained to listen for any kind of response. But it was silent, thankfully.

He breathed and bent his head, clearing his mind of anything but the task ahead. Lee managed to schedule three CAP sessions before his attention was diverted again. This time by a word.

_“Yeee-esssss….”_ The elongated hushed sibilance of the word in Kara’s distinctive gritty voice made his skin prickle with goosebumps and his dick twitch. _Frak._

It was another unwritten rule that the sounds of self-pleasure in the racks were inevitable and to be ignored at all costs.  But it had been a particularly long time since Lee, himself, had indulged in that shallow pleasure, and even longer since he’d partaken of any kind of pleasure that wasn’t doled out by his own right hand.

_“Ohhhh, ohhh my Gods….”_

He should get up. He should get up right now and go somewhere else, the ready room or the mess or… the head to take care of the erection already straining against his fly. But he didn’t move, his gaze snapping back to and freezing on the drab heavy gray fabric shielding Kara’s bunk from prying eyes.

He didn’t need an unobstructed view though. Not really. The curtain might as well have been translucent, as easy as it was for Lee to picture her.

Her body would be loose and easy, sprawled on her rack, toned limbs naked – No. Not naked. The air guard was perpetually on call. Underwear then. That green sports bra—no, the black one—yes, and black briefs. Regulation, worn and slouched low on her hips.

For a brief second, the vision in his head flickered, transforming sagging cotton to a slip of satin and lace that Kara wouldn’t wear in a million years, but Lee closed his eyes and refocused sharply, prodding the fantasy to be a little less fantastical.

Another moan, louder this time, echoed in the quiet bunkroom and Lee’s own hand dropped, fumbling at the fly of his BDUs and slipping into his briefs to grasp and straighten himself as he hardened fully, the pressure bordering on painful. He let his hand linger, his own fingers stroking himself lightly as the image of Kara reasserted itself.

She’d have one arm up, thrown back so the stretch of her toned bicep curved against the pillow. The bra would be rucked up now, just enough that one full, perfect breast would be visible and Kara’s other hand would be stroking the soft, delicate skin there, fingers plucking at her nipple, teasing the blushed nub into a ruddy peak.

Lee wet his lips, his hand tightening, moving with more purpose on his shaft now. He should not be doing this, in the middle of the bunkroom when anyone could come in or one of the other pilots could wake up at any moment. At the very frakking least he should take it to his rack. But before he could move, Kara moaned again.

_“Unngh, please…Gods…._ ” Kara’s voice was lower now, yearning and guttural and sexy as hell. Lee leaned in, straining harder to catch every syllable of this. Kara Thrace begging to be frakked. He squeezed the head of his leaking cock in his fist in a steady rhythm, competing with Lee’s thumping heartbeat.

The moving picture in Lee’s mind continued, Kara’s fingers trailing from her breast down over flat, firm abs to flatten against her belly, then dip under the sagging waistband of her briefs

He heard metal creak and a soft thud, as her body shifted and cloth rustled again. Lee pictured her, both hands now, tugging the underwear down under her thighs—not all the way, but snagging just low enough to expose a thatch of wiry blond hair. Her fingers gliding over and under the cloth, knuckles pushing the fabric out as her thighs spread a little, still constricted by the material, but wide enough for her to work her hand lower, curving visibly as her fingers crooked into her body.

_“Oh,  yes, Yesss C-“_ her breath caught on the hard consonant and Lee’s brain went into overdrive somehow, running rapidfire through all the officers he could think of whose name being with a C or a K, before she finished the thought _“….Captain.”_

His mouth went dry. Holy frak. His cock jumped in his hand and Lee’s nostrils flared as he dragged in air. Captain. Had she—was she thinking about—while she—?

No. No, that was crazy. There were multiple captains on this ship.

_“Frak, yes,_ “ Kara keened loudly now, her voice going thin and reedy with need, “ _Frak, frak, oh, ohh, yeah, ri-right there…S-Sir_ …”

Lee froze, all the remaining blood in his head rushing to his groin. There were only three people on this ship that Kara had to address as Sir.

And he sure the frak hoped she wasn’t thinking of his father or Tigh right now.

Suddenly, he was no longer frozen but moving, one hand still gripping his erection as he strode the two steps to her curtain. There was a second—maybe a half-second—of hesitation before he gripped the fabric in one hand and yanked it back.

As expected, Kara was stretched out, sprawling, limbs spread on her rack. Unexpectedly, she was fully dressed, still in her BDUs and double tanks, a lit cigar in one hand, and grinning up at him to beat the band. Her eyes flicked down to his crotch, smile widening even more.

“Lords, Lee, took you long enough. Thought I was going to have to actually scream out your frakking name.”

And with that she shot out her other hand wrapping it around the fist still clutching his cock, and tugged him down into the bunk with her before wooshing the curtain closed again.


End file.
